


Gotta Get Through This

by blakefancier



Series: A Perfect World [2]
Category: Captain America (2011)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-12
Updated: 2011-08-12
Packaged: 2017-10-22 13:04:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/238333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blakefancier/pseuds/blakefancier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve's awake and Howard has good business sense.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gotta Get Through This

Howard sprawls out on one of the chairs of the hospital’s waiting room and stares up at the ceiling. It took him three days to track down where the military had taken Steve after the discovery of his miraculous resurrection. Three frantic days where he called in every favor, touched every contact and relationship, and promised twenty different impossible things to get the name of the hospital.

Only to be stonewalled.

Oh, they’ll let him in the waiting room, but under no circumstances is he allowed to see the patient. He’s tried everything short of pulling a gun and taking hostages. Every time he asks, for five days he’s asked, bribed, and threatened, it’s the same: medical staff and family only, Mr. Stark.

He wants to tell them that he’s the closest thing to family that Steve has. But he can’t because they won’t understand. Or worse, they will.

He sighs and slumps even further in his seat. Maybe he should get some coffee and a sandwich from the commissary, even if the coffee is worse than what they served during the war. He rubs the bridge of his nose and closes his burning eyes.

“My God, Stark, every time I see you these days, you look like hell.”

“Peggy Carter.” He smiles slowly and looks up at her. “If I had known you were showing up, sweetheart, I would have put on my good suit.” He gets to his feet and hugs her tightly. “It’s good to see you. Who told you?”

“Not you.” She thumped him hard on the back and stepped away. “Phillips called me a few days ago. It took me awhile to get away from work. How is he? Is there any lingering effects? God, he must be so bored.”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?”

“I mean, they won’t let me in to see him.” He runs his hands thorough his hair and fights back the frustration that’s been building all week.

She blinks and frowns. “Why not?”

“I don’t know.” He sinks back into his chair. That’s the worst of it, not knowing if Steve’s all right, if he’s whole and coherent.

Peggy touches his shoulder. “Let me see if I can get in.”

He watches her walk up to the nurse's desk and talk quietly to the woman behind the desk. A few gestures, a quick phone call, and an MP comes into the room to escort Peggy back.

Howard clenches his teeth and grips the arms of the chair. Not fair, he wants to protest. Why her? But he knows why. Despite her past relationship with Barnes, she’s been cast as Steve’s girl. For one brief, horrible moment, he hates her.

He buries his face in his hands and forces himself to breathe, slow and regular.

She’s gone for an hour. An agonizing hour. When she comes back into the waiting room, she’s smiling and her cheeks are flushed, and jealousy hits him so hard that it hurts.

Peggy flops on the chair next to him, forgetting to be the prim and proper spy. “He’s fine. Bored, like I knew he would be, and happy to hear that you want to see him. They told him you went back to New York.”

“Of course they did,” he chokes out.

She touches his hand. “I promised him that I would sneak you in tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? Why not—“

“Have you looked in a mirror lately, Howard? It looks like a stiff wind would blow you to over. You don’t want Steve to see you this way.” Peggy gets to her feet, pulling him along with her. “Where are you staying?”

“Here. Right here.”

“You...” She sighs. “Come on.”

*****

“I can get my own room, Peggy!”

“Indeed you can. You could probably buy the whole hotel. But I promised Steve that I would look after you. Now go take a shower while I see about laundering your clothes.”

Howard opens his mouth to protest again, but she gives him an arch look. “Fine, play the little lady if you like.”

“I like. Now shower before I break your kneecaps.”

He knows she’s right, of course, he’s a mess. He’d got a lot of looks at dinner, and not the good kind. “Yes, dear.”

He spends much too long in the shower, but after a few months on that ship, plus another five days washing in the men’s bathroom of the hospital, the hot water feels good on his skin.

He’s gentleman enough to save some hot water for her.

He stretches out on the bed, in the hotel’s robe, while Peggy showers. It’s comfortable and he’s almost dozing when she comes out wearing a long, flowery cotton nightgown.

“Very attractive,” he says sleepily.

She scowls at him. ”Shut up.” Then she crawls into the bed.

“There’s only one bed.”

“And we’re both in it.” She turns towards him. “Is that a problem?”

“No. It’s just the last time I slept in a bed with a beautiful woman without…” He makes a vague gesture with his hands, “I was five.”

“You’re my best friend’s lover, Howard.” Peggy reaches over and strokes the hair from his forehead. “Do you want to have sex with me?”

He opens his mouth to say that of course he does, she’s gorgeous, but stops. Because, yes, she’s the loveliest woman he’s ever known but… “No. I want Steve.”

More than wants, needs, but he doesn’t say that.

She nods and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “We’ll sneak you in after breakfast."

*****

Howard buys flowers because Peggy makes him. He’s glad, it gives him something to clutch while his heart pounds in his chest.

Peggy distracts the MPs with her spy skills, which look a lot like feminine wiles. He won’t tell her that; the last time he joked about it, he found himself flat on his back with the heel of her shoe against his throat. He’s not a stupid man.

While the MPs are entranced by Peggy’s… skills, he sneaks past and slips into Steve’s room.

Steve is sitting up in bed, flipping through a magazine, but when his eyes meet Howard’s, he smiles. Then his eyes flick over to his roommate.

Howard smiles, because he can’t do anything but smile, and presents the flowers to Steve. “Hey, pal. You’re looking better than the last time I saw you. How are you feeling?”

Steve takes the flowers and, after a moment’s hesitation, sets them on the bedside table. “Great. And all thanks to you, I hear.”

He shrugs. “I rented a boat. Sorry, *ship.*”

“Still,” Steve says, his voice soft, “thank you.”

Howard flushes and looks away. “Not a lot of privacy in this room. If you let me, I bet I could bribe the staff and get you your own room.”

“I won’t be here long, just a few days more. Besides, there’s the partition.” He points to a flowery curtain.

Howard snorts but pulls the curtain so that both their neighbor and the door are blocked from view. He sits on the bed and lays a hand on Steve’s thigh. “I’m glad you’re all right, pal. You had me worried.”

“I’m sorry.” Steve gently runs his fingers along the side of Howard’s face.

Howard closes his eyes and shudders. God. A week ago, he thought he’d never touch Steve again. “Carter says we have to go dancing with her when we get back to New York.”

“I still don’t know how to dance.” Steve brushes his thumb against Howard’s mouth.

“It’s not that hard,” he said, his voice growing hoarse with emotion. He opens his eyes and looking into Steve’s clear blue eyes. “I can—“ His voice breaks and he fights to keep it steady, fights to keep the tears in his eyes from falling. “I can teach you.”

“Howard.”

He can’t. Oh, God, he can’t! He buries his face against Steve’s shoulder and whispers in a broken voice. “You were dead. You were dead and I was alone. Steve... Steve.”

“Shh, shh.” Steve pulls him closer and rubs his back soothingly. “I’m not. Howard, I’m right here. I’m right here with you.”

Howard wishes he could crawl into bed with Steve. He wishes he could feel the press of Steve's body along his, the warmth.

Steve kisses his temple, then pulls away. “Someone’s coming.”

Howard sits up and wipes his eyes. Right, this isn’t the time. When the door opens, he says, loudly, “I have the worst hangover. Steve, I must have drunk my weight in alcohol last night.”

The partition is pulled back and Howard smiles at General Courtland and Colonel Phillips.

“Hi, gentleman,” he says sunnily. “I was just telling Steve about my night. There was this girl, very pretty girl, she had the biggest—“

“That’s enough, Stark!” The general glowers at him. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I’m visiting my pal.” Howard pats Steve’s knee. “What are you doing here, General?”

“They want me to stay in the military,” Steve replies softly.

“Do they? What do you want?”

“I wanna go home. I’m tired.” And Steve does sound tired, so very tired.

“Well, there you go.” He grins at the general and Phillips. “That was simple.”

“It’s not simple. Captain Rogers, we spent a lot of money on you. You owe it to your country to serve it to the best of your considerable ability.”

Steve somehow manages to sit at attention. “And I will, sir. At home.”

“Doing what, soldier? Working in some factory?” Phillips asks.

“I don’t know, Colonel. Maybe. All I know, is that I’m tired of fighting. I want to go home, I... I want to visit Bucky’s grave and eat at my favorite diner. I want to go dancing with my... my friends.”

Howard looks at the faces of the two military men and his heart sinks. “They’re not going to give you a choice.”

“Son,” Phillips says gently, “you signed an agreement.”

Howard laughs and the other three men look at him like he’s crazy. “You want to talk contracts, colonel? Let’s talk contracts. Let’s talk about the contract that the military signed when I agreed to look for Captain Rogers’ body. It’s always important to get things in writing, Steve. And have your lawyers look at it before you sign. Otherwise people will try taking the shirt off your back. ”

“What the hell is he talking about, Phillips?” The general frowns and looks from Howard to the colonel.

Phillips sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. “When Mr. Stark agreed to lead the expedition to find Hydra’s plane and recover Rogers’ body, he had one stipulation.”

“That’s right. I would allow the government to take their samples, and perform an examination of the corpse, but Steve Rogers’ body belonged to me.” He grins at Steve. “I take it that they’ve taken their samples and performed lots of exams on you, Steve.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, there you go. You can contest the contract, if you like, general. I hate messy, public court cases, but I’m willing to go through it for my pal here.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” The general’s face is red with anger.

Howard leans back on his elbows and smiles lazily at the general. However, his voice is all steel. “Try me.”

“That won’t be necessary, Mr. Stark.” Phillips clears his throat and takes out a bundle of papers from the inside of his coat. He hands them to Steve. “Your separation papers, Rogers. They were signed by Truman himself.”

“Th-thank you, sir.” Steve clutches the papers in his fist.

Howard ignores the general, who’s having some sort of fit, and grins at Steve. “As soon as I can spring you from this joint, we’re going dancing.”


End file.
